


The Long Morning

by Katlyn1948



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AryaStark/GendryWaters, Badass Arya, F/M, Minor Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Minor Sansa Stark, Post-War, minor Jon Snow, post episode s8ep3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 07:15:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18686695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katlyn1948/pseuds/Katlyn1948
Summary: After the battle, when the chaos settles and dust stills, do our characters find one another.





	The Long Morning

**Author's Note:**

> So...this is like my first real fanfic. I’ve dabbled in it before for a school project, but nothing like this. I don’t know if I’ll add more to this one or not, I guess it just depends on the response and reaction. Please be nice, but also, I like constructive criticism. So please leave your advice. Thanks!!

There was an eerie quietness that surrounded the castle. The winds had finally calmed and the dead had finally fallen. 

The only sound that could be heard were the fervent huffs of the few survivors that remained. 

Confusion was apparent and most wondered if this indicated the end of the long night. Had they truly won against the dead? Was the war finally over? It would seem so. 

The quiet was suddenly interrupted by a buckling roar. The wildling, Tormund Giantsbane, was raging the celebration. He looked around the other survivors with an enormous grin on his muddied face. 

He met the smith’s gaze, “The crow did it! He actually did it!” 

The smith’s mouth slowly turned upward, “I suppose he did.” 

With an exhausted sigh he slumped down on the only thing he could find, which may or may not have been a dead a body. The memory of fighting the dead was still fresh in his mind, and for a brief moment that was all that consumed him. 

At times he still couldn’t believe that the dead had walked only moment ago. If you would have told him 12 moons ago that he would be fighting to save the living against creatures of the night he would have laughed at your face and continued his smith work. Yet, here he was, miles from the warmth of Kingslanding, doing just that in the dead of winter. 

The adrenaline was finally wearing thin and his racing mind began to slow. He was taking everything around him in. The mounds of dead, the look of relief and even the embraces exchanged between strangers. All was finally clam. But it was at that moment, when he was gazing the courtyard, that he saw it. The weapon he made for her only hours ago. It was glistening in the rising sun, just tossed in the middle of the castle grounds. 

Panic began to swell his belly. All of the extinguished adrenaline had returned tenfold. 

He pushed himself off of Gods only know what and began to scour the battlements. 

Her name was screamed from his lips and for that he received judging glances. But he didn’t care, for the only thing he truly cared about was no where to be found. 

He continued to scream for her, but it was useless. The only thing that greeted him back was silence. 

Had he truly lost her after he had only gotten her back? No, he thought. I can’t lose her again. 

So with another breath he yelled to the horizon, “ARYA!”

**Author's Note:**

> How about that cliffhanger?? But nah, I’m non doing canon divergence so y’all know that she’s gunna be alright...but he doesn’t 😝


End file.
